Reailty and How to Handle It
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: “What’s your fantasy?” she blurted in a rushed whisper, her lips spilling a sin she thought she’d never have the courage to speak. Post ToYD


_Semester is OVER and I'm so happy... so I wrote this little ditty. Thanks to PrincessKlutz for the beta!

* * *

She didn't want to push it, didn't want to press the issue. This was a big step for him, admitting such a thing without closing himself off afterwards. It was a fragile thing, what he'd created in the break room and while she could keep it and treasure it forever, she felt the need to test it, to drop it, to see if it would break._

Her fingers curled around the knob of the door to his office and with the other, she knocked, waiting for him to invite her in. When the invitation didn't come, she took a step back and tilted her head, staring in confusion at the door. He hadn't left, she was sure of that, so where…

Sara knocked again and waited. A muffled groan came from inside, so she tried the knob, surprised when it moved beneath her palm. Stepping into the dark, cool office she allowed her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. Her line of vision sought him out behind his desk, but he wasn't there.

A muffled snuffle sounded from the left side of the room and Sara turned quickly, only slightly surprised to see Grissom curled in an uncomfortable position on his couch. Her heart clenched a bit and she felt the warm flush rushing to fill her cheeks. He shifted and stirred and she backed up, hoping to sneak out before waking him.

It didn't work.

Grissom's eyes fluttered and slid open, their/his steely blue meeting the muted brown of hers. They stared at each other for a few long moments before either of them spoke. "Hey," she whispered, the same sweet smile that had graced her lips a few short hours ago in the break room making a stunning reappearance.

"Hello," came the gruff reply as he swiped at his face and sat up. "What can I do for you?" He was rumpled in the sort of way that made her want to iron his slacks for him. Grissom looked old and tired and she realized then that everything she was feeling was entirely too real because she simply couldn't have wanted him more at that one moment.

Her lips faltered a bit as the business-like tone seeped into his voice. Of course there was that chance that he was learning to ignore what he'd said before; of course there was the chance that he'd choose to forget it. "No, nothing, I just-"

"Sara-"

"What's your fantasy?" she blurted in a rushed whisper, her lips spilling a sin she thought she'd never have the courage to speak. In a millisecond she felt all of the blood rush to her head; her cheeks felt hot, near blistering and she swore she could feel her eyes widen to take all of him in. "Tell me," she pleaded, turning briefly to close the door.

Maybe if he forgot about the outside world he'd open up to her.

Grissom blinked and stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants as she had wanted to do, walking eerily calm to stand in front of his desk. Sara stood before him, willing her hands to stop shaking, her head to stop spinning, her stomach to stop flip-flopping. A slight sheen of sweat broke out on her brow, her nerves making them selves blatantly known.

Grissom licked his parched lips and looked from the floor back up to her, contemplating what to say. "My fantasy…" he toyed the words over on his tongue. After a moment, he straightened and looked at her.

"Come here," he asked, his lips twitching into a semi smile, out of place for the intensity of the moment. His palms were up and open, an invitation for her to step closer to him.

Sara's mouth parched and she blinked at him. "What?" The moment was suddenly slippery for her, her logistical mind swimming with all the implications.

"Come… _here_," he insisted. Sara moved towards him on wobbly legs and stopped just as the tips of her shoes brushed his. Lifting her head, she was stunned at how close his face was to hers. Well then…

She blew a quick breath out past her lips, "Okay…"

Grissom pursed his lips into a smile and nodded… just before leaning in to press his lips against hers. Sara sighed against him, thinking him quite brilliant for such a subtle, sweet move.

So she gave in to it, to the rush of endorphins and the hammering of her too-full heart. Opening her mouth, his tongue slipped inside to greet hers with a slick slide of seduction. Her hands found the back of his neck and his found the sweet swell of her hips.

Tighter, he held her as he leaned back against the desk, allowing his thumbs to hook into the back of her pants. Sara giggled into his mouth, praising her good fortune and pressed up into him, arms twining around his shoulders.

When her lungs began to protest, she fell back on her heels, peeling her lips from his oh-so-slowly. Rosy, wet lips curved into an expression of something bordering on bliss. Head tilted to the side in interest, she waited for him to speak.

"There," he stated slowly, as if his tongue were covered in molasses. "Fantasy one fulfilled."

"One"

"There's a list," he trailed a hand through her hair and let it fall to rest on her hip. "A very long list."

"Really…" she drew out, placing her hands once more on her shoulders. "Want to give me an example?"

"Most of them have to do with being somewhere very… private." Something sparked in his eyes, something blue and dangerous and lovely; Sara knew if she touched it she would combust, and how she longed to burn.

Placing a palm over his heart she suggested, "Well, why don't we go somewhere a little more private… and you can show me instead of just telling me."

Grissom curled his fingers around her wrist and brought the palm that was over his heart up to his lips. "Can you handle the reality?" he asked lovingly, drawing her into his arms gently.

"I already am."


End file.
